


The (Interim) Hokage Incident

by thatrandomnpc



Series: Bridges [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Gen, Izuna would like everyone to know that he doesn't fit in the Hokage robes, Literally or metaphorically, Pre-Relationship, This is what happens when I think too hard about a throw away line in the main story, oops my hand slipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:29:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatrandomnpc/pseuds/thatrandomnpc
Summary: For the second time in his life, Uchiha Izuna vows sweet, sweet revenge on one Senju Tobirama.Only a real bastard decides to go gallivanting off with Madara conveniently at the same time Hashirama and Mito receive an invitation from the daimyo.(Or, the one in which Izuna is very much Not Happy about being left in charge of the village, thank you much.)





	The (Interim) Hokage Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Oops. My hand slipped and some Izuna/Touka pre-relationship/new relationship happened. 
> 
> This isn't at all relevant to the plot of the main Bridges story, and I have no idea if it's at all any good. That said, I wanted to play around a little with Izuna's character in the context of the Bridges universe in some of my down time and thought I'd share what came out! Hope you enjoy! 
> 
> As usual, I apologize for any grievous typos still lingering around.

For the second time in his life, Uchiha Izuna vows sweet, sweet revenge on one Senju Tobirama. 

Only a real bastard decides to go gallivanting off with Madara  _ conveniently _ at the same time Hashirama and Mito receive an invitation from the daimyo. (Oh, he absolutely knows Madara must’ve had a hand in blackmailing Tobirama somehow, but Izuna’s vengeance is as merciless as it is petty.)  _ Izuna _ would’ve liked an invitation from the daimyo. It wouldn’t have been so hard to pretend he was Hashirama for the evening--probably would’ve spared Mito at least one headache. He’s a far better hand with subtle politics than Hashirama: he’s charismatic  _ and _ cunning whereas Hashirama is just… generally adorable. Also a massive dork. Also low-key terrifying. 

Okay, fine. So Izuna would’ve probably ended up tipsy and hitting on the local samurai about fifteen minutes in--which is very much  _ not _ like Hashirama and his freakish healing, fairly-impervious-to-alcohol thing and his general  _ happily, monogamously married  _ thing--but still. An invitation at least would’ve been nice. Hell. He’d even take an invitation to the stuffy Hyuuga thing. 

Madara hadn’t invited him, either. Which, fine. Izuna had  _ kind _ of expected that after the whole  _ incident _ of five years past. He’s reasonably sure there’s still a scorch mark on the Hyuuga bathhouse with his signature spin on it. 

( _ What a night that had been though... _ ) 

Either way, yes. He’d expected Madara to go running off while Hashirama and Mito were gone. He just hadn’t exactly  _ expected Tobirama to follow _ . 

Thus, instead of annoying the ever loving shit out of his favorite former attempted homicide partner while he plays temp Hokage in his brother’s oversized robes,  _ Izuna _ is left to do that in his stead. 

For the record, Izuna would like the entire village to know that Hashirama’s robes are  _ too damn big _ for people of a  _ regular _ sort of height. Izuna, who is shorter than Madara, is very much a member of that ‘regular’ group and immediately scraps the goofy hat and robes because he, at least, has  _ some _ sort of fashion sense, thank you. 

Also, he sort of looks like an overgrown child in them. 

Touka tells him as much, brows lifted with a dry snort. Clearly, she’s laughing on the inside. Izuna expects that anyone who had to endure helping raise Hashirama and Tobirama is probably mostly immune to… basically anything really, including but not limited to Izuna in that goofy hat.

“What are you even doing here anyway, Senju?” Izuna snaps because  _ she _ would probably fit in the damn robes just fine. She’d probably even make  _ Hashirama _ look normal, what with the way she has to look down at Izuna and the toned muscle and, really, he’s  _ seen  _ her swing that naginata of hers around, and--

Okay.  _ Not _ helping. Also staring. He should... probably not do that. 

Like the damn ( _ mostly _ ) responsible adult he is, Izuna peels his eyes away from Touka’s impressive arms and up to the bland, unimpressed look on her face. (...He  _ swears _ Tobirama picked that up from her. He’s yet to find the optimal time to tease him about it.) She holds up a scroll she’s apparently been holding and shakes it back and forth as though Izuna is a child, who is too easily distracted by things that aren’t actively moving. Which, really.  _ Ouch _ . That’s the  _ other  _ thing about Touka--she’s as vicious as Izuna with only a fraction of the effort. “Mission report,” she announces, “You were the one the Hokage robes.” 

Oh. 

Well. 

Yes. Fair enough, Izuna supposes. He clears his throat and snatches the scroll out of the principle of the thing. 

( _ And maybe because he’s still just a  _ little bit  _ flustered about being caught trying on Hashirama’s robes. But really, who hops through the damn window unannounced? She was worse than Madara and his penchant for just marching up to whatever got in his way and setting it on fire _ . 

_ Then again, Touka hasn’t threatened to burn down Hokage tower over some hair snagged in a doorway, because  _ she  _ doesn’t act like an overpowered five-year-old throwing a tantrum, so… there’s that at least. _ ) 

He only sort of glances through the report because, really, she wouldn’t be standing there without a scuff on her armor if something went wrong. Maybe. Then again, she’s also pretty handy with genjutsu even without a sharingan. Either way, once he reads ‘mission successful, no complications,’ that’s really all he needs to know. 

If he’s absolutely honest about it, he likes that straightforwardness about Touka about as much as he likes watching her tear through sparring partners. Izuna deals with spies all day now. When he isn’t dealing with spies, he’s dealing with Madara, Hikaku, and Tobirama; the former has the Uchiha penchant for turning the simple art of making noodles into five-act drama, Hikaku is sometimes so proper Izuna worries he might actually strain something, and Tobirama is… well… Tobirama... the same man who once inadvertently dragged Izuna along to collect a corpse for research. 

The less said about that, the better.

Folding up the scroll, Izuna peers suspiciously up at Touka. She frowns right back, but Izuna can practically smell the wariness in her eyes. “Why aren’t  _ you _ in the Hokage robes?” 

She doesn’t step back, but it’s the next best thing. Her eyes narrow warningly. Her fingers twitch like they’re about to go for her weapon. Izuna's mouth does  _ not _ go even a little dry, thank you. “I have…  _ things _ to do,” she replies warily, “Missions. Clan meetings.” 

Izuna’s eyes narrow as he grins.  _ Excellent _ . “Right.  _ Things _ ,” he says dryly, “Sounds important.” 

Touka really does take a step back this time. Naturally it’s toward the open window she’d slipped through in the first place. Izuna smiles, pretty as a peach, and shamelessly saunters up to park his ass  _ conveniently  _ in front of that exit route. Touka’s frown deepens. Izuna’s smile widens into a proper lazy, cat-ate-the-canary grin. “ _ So _ ,” he chirps, tapping the scroll against his thigh, “What sort of  _ things _ do you have planned for tomorrow around… say noon?” 

She doesn’t take her eyes off him as she makes an excellent show of slowly stepping toward the door. “Busy,” she replies tersely, “All afternoon.” 

Izuna crosses his arms smugly and leans his head flippantly against the window, brows lifted in faux innocence. Because he’s feeling just that extra little bit of general asshole-ary ( _ which he will  _ eventually _ convince Madara should be a proper word, dammit _ ), he crosses his ankles. “So you’re free in the evening,” he counters and  _ purrs _ , “ _ Perfect _ .” 

For a second there, Touka looks like she might just pull out that blade to fight her way through Izuna, which…  ~~_ yes please _ ~~ is not exactly what he was going for. 

With a frustrated breath, Touka seems to finally accept that Izuna has officially won this round. She settles into a grounded stance and demands “What, exactly, do you want to drag me into this time, Uchiha?” 

Izuna really does mean to look pleasant and polite this time. Honest. He just has one of those faces. Okay. Maybe he  _ also _ has a bit of a precedence with  _ sort of _ manipulating people with a pleasant look, but still... “Village advisers’ meeting that  _ someone’s  _ cousin was supposed to babysit.” He rolls his eyes because he’s pretty sure it’ll be about as  _ astoundingly fruitful  _ as the last three, yelling-heavy meetings. “So. I’ll pick you up at six? Your place? My place? Market?” 

Touka’s suspicion falls into a flat, unimpressed stare. Izuna maybe pouts. Just a little. Internally. “You have no idea where I live, do you?” 

Izuna laughs and shrugs, “Not a damn clue.” 

Touka sighs again. There’s a short internal debate. The moment of  _ screw it _ is delightfully easy to see in the grim twist of her lips. “I’ll find you.” 

Izuna smiles as sincerely as he’s capable of. Really. He  _ does _ genuinely savor the anticipation of the look of abject horror from whoever their clans’ elders send to represent their wishes. If they thought Madara and Hashirama combined were a terror… 

( _ Well, if Izuna and Touka strike enough combined terror in their hearts, they’ll probably just cancel the next meeting if either of them are left in charge, in the future so win-win. _ ) 

“Izuna,” Touka calls, jarring him right out of his pleasant, sadistic daydream, “Don’t wear the robes.” 

She slips out of the door but not before Izuna cackles. 

  
  
  


 

Izuna goes about his business, making certain to grin especially pleasantly at old, stuffy Taro as they pass in the streets. Hikaku, Izuna’s chosen confidant and occasional less-than-willing conspirator, sighs and rubs at his temples. Izuna doesn’t quite think the theatrics are entirely necessary, so he slings an arm around his cousin’s shoulders and convinces him to pick up the tab for lunch. 

Despite the initially frustrating circumstances, it’s not exactly a bad day. He collects mission reports, signs a few documents that he  _ definitely  _ reads in their entirety, and just generally enjoys being the currently undisputed strongest remaining shinobi in the village. 

It’s a good feeling. No wonder Hashirama is always so damn cheerful. (Madara, he figures, is a bit of a lost cause on that front--all too dour without his amazing, thoughtful brother to really raise his blood pressure.)

Naturally, he’s debating on whether or not to actually go through with that whole ‘vengeance on Tobirama’ thing in light of his improved mood when the door slides open.

Izuna’s sensing capacity falls somewhere behind Madara’s, but there’s no mistaking tension like that--the spark of aggression and wariness. His vision sharpens to perfection as his sharingan flares to life instinctively.  It’s Touka. She’s still in the civilian blacks she prefers in her downtime, but her face is pulled tight with tension. She recoils when their eyes meet. Her gaze dips to the middle of his chest. Old habits die hard, he knows,  _ especially _ with a rush still in the system.

What surprises him almost as much as her mood is that she scowls, breathes deeply, and then adjusts to meet his sharingan again. “There’s a demonstration in the middle of the village,” she says, “Our clans.” 

Izuna blinks, willing away his sharingan for the moment. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose because 1) of  _ course _ this had to happen while they’re effectively responsible for stopping it and 2) he’s slowly but steadily catching up to the deterioration that Madara seems to think he’s so very clever about hiding. “I’ll just assume this isn’t the cooperative type of demonstration.” 

Touka’s silence is answer enough. She stalks past him to open the window. “I sent my squad to keep the peace. Hurry up,” she prompts. Then she slides up to perch outside of the windowsill. With a glance back, she nods toward the pile of robes, “Bring the hat.” 

Izuna snorts and hops out behind Touka. 

( _ He _ does _ grab the hat though. _ )

  
  
  


 

Naturally the commotion has attracted nearly all of the villagers in the surrounding radius by the time they arrive. These sorts of things are predictably as difficult as possible by means of some grand, cosmic law, he figures. Hashirama’s hat is surprisingly useful in parting the crowd at least. The worst Izuna gets is a confused look or two. Likely those who don’t know that Izuna has any actual place in the village’s chain of command, which…

Well,  _ this  _ is exactly why Izuna is more than happy to  _ not _ have an obvious place there. Mediation on home territory is  _ tedious _ . 

There are four Uchiha and six Senju. He recognizes the handful of shinobi from Touka’s usual patrol squad in the middle, a little more literally the only the between an outright fight than Izuna would like. Judging by the combination of civilian clothes and half missing armor, he assumes they’ve only arrived slightly ahead of the two of them. 

“Alright,” he snaps, eyeing the Uchiha half of the conflict, “Takeshi. Explain.” 

The man’s eyes are wide, alternating between staring, flabbergasted, at Izuna’s face and back up to the Hokage’s hat. “I…” 

Fuyu, barely more than gangly kid, has been something of a constant headache for Madara lately. Izuna understands why she can’t let it go; she’d only been on the battlefield for half a year before the treaty, which is just long enough to build up the hate they’d needed to survive fighting the Senju but not nearly long enough to temper it with the weariness. She steps right up to Izuna, indignant and far too confident for someone half his height and even less than half his skill set and experience, “Look! They only gave an Uchiha the hat  _ after _ those Senju are gone!” 

Izuna raises a brow skeptically. Like a  _ rational, knowledgeable  _ person, he’s about to point out that Madara and Mito, who never even took on the Senju name, are technically tied for second in line for the hat in case of an emergency or absentee Hashirama. Tobirama is technically  _ fourth _ in line . Also, again,  _ just for the record _ , Izuna very much  _ does not want the hat, dammit. _

Naturally, one of the Senju cuts in with exactly the opposite retort, “Why do  _ you  _ have the hat, Uchiha?”

“ _ Enough _ , Kenji,” Touka snaps, physically shoving the man back to his other bellicose kin. Frankly, Izuna wants to  _ purr  _ at the sight of it. “He has the right to it.” 

Civilians are surrounding them with more than a few malleable children, shinobi or otherwise, among them. The tension is at the natural climax while they wait for Izuna to enable them or hang himself, respectively. At this important juncture, Izuna naturally reminds himself that he’d thought he’d play an excellent Hashirama the day before. In the thick of it, this is where Hashirama would no doubt say something entirely out of nowhere that was somehow simultaneously inspiring and laughably idealistic to a cynic like Izuna. 

Huh. Turns out coming up with Hashirama-like things to say is  _ much _ harder than he’d anticipated, so better to just handle this his way and hope that Touka is good at damage control.

Naturally, instead of inspiring speeches about optimism and unity, what comes out Izuna's mouth is “You’re all full of shit." 

(He’s more than a little pleased by the couple of snickers that draws from a few civilians. Maybe they’ll make it in a shinobi village after all. Good on them.

He’s also more than a little proud of the amused huff from Touka because, really, maybe he’s a  _ bit _ too fond of seeing that quietly amused look on her face, even if it's just in pereiphery.)

“Izuna--!” Fuyu protests around the same time the Senju bristle up in arms with their own, much more aggressive protests. Izuna ignores them because, of course, he's  _ currently the strongest shinobi in the village _ and all that. 

(He gets it though. He  _ really _ understands the hatred on both sides because he hadn’t exactly been any different a year ago. 

Madara had been forced to hold him down to keep him from bleeding out while Tobirama had healed him that night. He wanted nothing more than to give Madara his eyes and a reason to make sure no Senju even  looked at an Uchiha again, much less have the chance to strip some other formerly happy family of their youngest ever again. He’d even tried to spit blood in Tobirama’s face--anything to strike that temper laying under the surface and break the farce of cooperation--but couldn’t get the breath for it. ) 

Understanding or not, Izuna is  _ not _ Hashirama. He can’t give ground, or this lot will trample the whole damn village over with it. Izuna is intimately familiar with what the seeds of long-term dissent look like, and they are very much staring outraged back at him. 

“If it bothers you so much you feel compelled to kill each other in the streets, then leave,” he says with a shrug, “As acting clan head, I wouldn’t stop you.” 

Now  _ both _ groups are gaping at him like he’s gone mad. Funny thing, that: arguably, Izuna already tip-toes that line. Touka, veritable goddess she is, catches on immediately and nods to her clansmen. “You’re free to leave,” she agrees, “But know that the moment you step out of that gate, you abandon your clan and the protection of the village.” 

Izuna smiles like a well-fed cat, “What she said.” 

Fuyu, as the one with the least to lose of the Uchiha, appears the least concerned about that… until she looks to her older clanmates and finds hesitation rather than support. Almost comically, the Senju are holding a silent conversation that looks eerily similar to the Uchiha.  He waits until he’s reasonably sure they’ve reached a consensus to lean very deliberately against Touka’s side. Without the armor in the way, her shoulder is also conveniently the perfect height for Izuna to tip his head against. They aren't Madara and Hashirama, who exude a united front in the easy way of life-long friends, but he thinks the point is made well enough. 

Naturally, she elbows him in the side, but it’s light and nominal at best. Madara hits harder when they’re sparring, and Madara is frustratingly opposed leaving even a bruise on Izuna these days. 

“Well,” Izuna says, gesturing toward the gate, “We’re waiting.” 

It’s insultingly obvious when both sides give in. 

“If that’s your decision,” Touka suddenly says, voice stern and unyielding in a way that doesn't exactly help Izuna's concentration on the problem at hand, “Understand that staying means acting as is befitting of a shinobi of Konoha. You don’t have to like or forgive each other, but you will not jeopardize the hopes and sacrifices of the people of this village over it.” 

Izuna lounges agreeably just to be that extra little bit of an asshole over his evening being derailed.

The first of the crowd begins to the thin out, realizing that they aren’t about the watch the village implode first-hand. The Uchiha and Senju are staring at them, bewildered, but they’ve also all had a blow to the pride from the public reprimand, so Izuna doubts they’re prepared to make yet another scene so soon. 

(There are others in both clans he has his eyes on--ones he’s sure won’t be quite so peacefully diffused when they make a move--but none of them are currently present.) 

Fuyu looks betrayed. That’s not exactly ideal or Izuna’s intention. He doesn’t really blame her resentment toward the Senju, given her circumstances, but he can't currently be seen as especially sympathetic without undercutting his own part in the reprimand. He’ll have to send Hikaku to talk her down. Hikaku is good with that sort of thing anyway. 

Touka gives a discrete signal to her squad to split up and tail the problematic groups for the time being. They obey without question. 

“So,” he chirps once the crowd has, for the most part, disbursed, “Verdict?” 

Touka sighs. Izuna is pleasantly surprised by the arm that slides around his shoulders and smiles delightfully. “ _ You _ ,” she decides, “are insane.” 

“Maybe,” Izuna gives her, then teasingly shrugs, “And yet… crisis averted, no one left the village, and Mito never needs to hear about this.” 

Touka snorts and starts steering him down the road, “Mito would probably give you a commendation.” 

Oh. That would be nice. Izuna likes commendations almost as much as he like scorching training fields, especially when that commendation results in a powerful, politically influential kunoichi owing him a favor. 

(Not that he necessarily would ever cash it in; Izuna just has a bit of a fascination with collecting strings to pull for a  _ particularly _ rainy day.) 

Because Izuna is feeling very much like pushing his luck today (it’s the hat probably), he smiles charmingly, “Buy me dinner, Senju?” 

Touka lifts a brow and tugs Hashirama’s hat further down Izuna’s forehead, “You have a meeting, Uchiha.” 

Oh. Right. 

_ Damn it _ . 

Izuna rights the hat and then smirks, “Split the difference?” 

(If Izuna intentionally eats his bento slowly enough to have some left over to pick at during the advisers' meeting, he decides that it’s only because the stares and indigent gaping pair so much better with entertainment food.

In the end, Mito doesn’t quite give him the commendation when she and Hashirama return, but she does nod approvingly. 

Touka  also shows up with an extra lunch the following day, so he supposes he can let the whole ‘petty vengeance on Tobirama’ thing go. A week in close quarters with Madara is probably more than enough revenge without Izuna lifting a finger. Brothers are so very nice like that.) 


End file.
